Count Grissom of Labsylvania
by Sk8er Chica
Summary: Grissom has a migraine, and Greg overreacts just a tad. Post ep for Burn Out.


DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!

A/N: Just a funny little ficlet I jotted down when I was bored. Please read and review.

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Greg walked down the hallway of the lab with two coffee mugs in his hand. Grissom had seemed really odd during the time he'd been picking the suspect's brain for clues. Greg couldn't blame his boss there; the guy was a damn nutjob and a pervert besides. He thought Grissom could really use a cup of Blue Hawaii to lift his spirits. 

When he got to Grissom's office, he found the door shut and the blinds drawn. That was unusual, even by Grissom's standards. Greg poked a couple fingers between the slats to look at what was going on inside Grissom's inner sanctum. Grissom was lying motionless on his sofa, arms folded across his stomach. He seemed to be squeezing his eyes shut to block out the sliver of light now penetrating the office.

Greg dropped his coffee mug, which shattered into a million pieces on the floor. He ran down the hall, not stopping until he reached the breakroom. All who were present looked up immediately. Greg was obviously alarmed because he was making the same face McCauley Culkin made famous in _Home Alone_.

"Is something the matter?" asked Catherine.

"Grissom...is...a...vampire." Greg gasped, rubbing the stitch in his chest.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding," Warrick said with an arched eyebrow.

"Maybe you need to switch to decaf, there, Greggo," chuckled Nick.

"Stop...laughing!" Greg panted indignantly. "I'm...not...kidding. This isn't...funny."

"Okay, Greg," said Sara, trying to play along. "What evidence do you have to support your theory?"

"He's hiding in his office with the blinds closed to block out the light," said Greg, able to speak normally now that his heart rate had returned to normal. "And he's lying on his sofa like this." Greg folded his arms and closed his eyes to illustrate.

"So that makes him a vampire?" asked Catherine.

"Heck yes." Sara and Nick sniggered slightly. "Seriously," said Greg. He was getting more agitated by the second. "Vampires hate light. Haven't you guys ever seen _Van Helsing?_" There were blank stares all around. "_Dracula? Interview with the Vampire? Vampires: Los Muertos?_"

"You've seen waaaaay too many movies, boss," said Nick. "You gotta get yourself a girlfriend."

"Let me ask you something," said Sara. "If Grissom _is _a vampire--which is impossible--why does he keep his mother's old rosary in his desk drawer?"

"That's right. Vampires can't look at crosses," Warrick agreed. "It makes them melt."

"Aha!" Greg exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "So you _did _see _Dracula_ after all!"

"Not even going there," said Warrick.

Greg watched with a slightly annoyed expression on his face as his coworkers returned to eating or whatever they'd been doing before he walked in. So they didn't believe him, huh? Well, he'd show them. He'd march down the hall and expose Grissom for the blood-sucking fiend he was. But before he went to tackle his boss, Greg went into his locker to fetch the cross Papa Olaf had given him as a kid.

Greg headed into Grissom's office, which had all the charm of a crypt in daylight and was even worse with no lights on at all. He crept toward the sofa, trying not to look at the slimy things in jars all over the office. They seemed to be glaring at Greg, as though furious with him for interrupting their master's slumber. Grissom, who had sensed the presence of someone else in the room, opened his eyes.

"The light!" he cried out, the flourescent glow filtering from the hall making his head throb afresh.

"Stay back!" Greg warned, holding the cross before him.

"What are you doing in my office?" Grissom asked tiredly.

"Just seeing if you want some homemade...garlic bread!" Greg said quickly.

"No," Grissom answered.

"I knew it! I knew you were a vampire!" Greg roared triumphantly.

Grissom winced as the volume caused a fresh stab of pain in his temples. Then he blinked passively at his underling. "Greg, I'm not feeling well right now, so I'm going to pretend you didn't accuse me of drinking blood. If you don't wish to spend the rest of your week at the unemployment office, get out of my office."

Greg left in a hurry, making sure to close the door gently behind him. Outside, he came face to face with Sara, who was holding a single sheet of printer paper in her hand.

"Just so you know, Greg, I went to an online medical library after your little fit," she said. "If you read that page carefully, you'll find that sensitivity to light and sound are classic symptoms of migraines, not vampirism."

"So Grissom just has migraines?" Greg asked.

Sara nodded.

"Do you think he'll forgive me for this?" Greg said worriedly.

Sara chuckled. "I guess you'll find out."

THE END


End file.
